The Lion and the Dragon
by Zarvonius
Summary: This is a redo of a previous story. When Tywin's long-lost disowned son returns to the seven kingdoms, what happens? Read and Review, no flames, Dany/OC, rated M for future lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**The Lion and the Dragon**

**Chapter I**

Garen Lannister was dead… at least that's what Tywin wanted everyone to think; Garen was, in fact, still alive… and encamped five miles east of Casterly Rock with a band of a thousand mercenaries. "When're we taking Casterly?" asked the leader of Garen's band. "The men are getting antsy." "As soon as an opportunity presents itself, which so far, it has not," said Garen. He was in his command tent, polishing his sword. It was of fine make… not Valyrian steel, but it had served Garen well in the past. After this was done, he examined his reflection in the mirror, contemplating when his attack against Casterly Rock should be. Garen's hair was blonde, like that of all Lannisters, and his eyes were blue. Garen had a full beard, but it was scruffy. He desperately needed a shave. His hair wasn't in the best condition, either, being ruffled. That didn't much matter, however, because his armor was in good condition and that was good enough for him. Garen was wearing splint-mail, and it was highly polished. That was when a figure appeared in his mirror. "I'm sorry to bother you, Milord, but an emissary from the Starks has arrived. He says their army is in tatters since the Red Wedding…" "Yes…" said Garen thoughtfully. "I heard about that unfortunate incident. And Stark needs reinforcements?" "Yes."

Garen sighed. "Let me change into something more comfortable. Please ensure that my horse is saddled… no armor, I'm going on a peaceful mission." The servant nodded and saw the task done while Garen changed. He put on the finery that he had one of his spies liberate from Casterly Rock and combed his beard and hair. His finery was red with the lion of House Lannister on the left breast. He went to his horse, Bloodmane, and mounted him. The horse was called Bloodmane because during a battle, he always got blood all over his mane. Garen rode to the Starks' camp and stopped in front of two guards. "Garen Lannister," said Garen. "Right," said a guard. "I'm told you have business here, so the camp's open to you."

Garen rode into the camp and dismounted when he got to Robb's tent. Two guards admitted him by opening the flaps, and he sat down. "Garen Lannister, I presume?" "Aye, that'd be me," said Garen. "I'm told you fight Joffery's forces as well as I do?" "Joffery?" "The current king; we unfortunately have to fight the Lannisters in order to get to him." Robb filled Garen in on the details of the war. "Right," said Garen. "We march for Casterly Rock when we're ready. My men are training. A thousand of them… how many are you?" "Five hundred," said Robb. "We need more men," said Garen. "I heard that Tywin's got at least five thousand in Casterly itself. Five thousand more are about three days' ride from here… notice I said ride, not march."

Robb nodded. "Perhaps we should join forces?" "Yes, but I fear we still won't have enough men. I'll see what can be done about getting more. In the meantime, train hard and keep in touch." "Right." Garen left the camp and returned to his tent, finding a short figure sitting just outside the flaps. "Tyrion," said Garen with a smile. "Good." Tyrion leapt up and smiled. "Good to see you, Garen!" "You too… say… I need more men to march on Casterly…" "Wait, wait, wait!" said Tyrion. "Why would you want to do that?" "Because my father supports Joffery, and I, unfortunately, do not. Besides that, I want a little revenge." Tyrion laughed and nodded. "It'd be fun to watch, brother, I admit that. Alright, you'll have your men… if I can manage to rally your supporters in Casterly." "Find out who wants me back, eh? I like the sound of that."

Tyrion went to Casterly rock to gather Garen's supporters, and Garen waited. The next day, twenty-five hundred soldiers waited outside of Garen's camp. "Say the word, Garen," said one, "and we'll fall on our swords." Garen laughed. "Good attitude!" he said. "Set up your tents and start training. We march the night after next." The soldiers ruched off to tdo Garen's bidding, and Garen rode to Robb's camp. "Good news, Stark!" he said. "We're twenty-five hundred men stronger!" "Excellent!" Robb exclaimed. "Oh this is perfect. One last thought… my men are shooting down Tywin's ravens and intercepting his messages." "Two nights from now," said Garen with a smile, "we attack."

Meanwhile in Casterly rock, Tywin Lannister was in the great hall stewing. He was _not_ happy. "Why are half of my damned men missing?!" he shouted into nothingness. "Why is there an army encamped five miles east of my holdings?! Why are my ravens being shot down by Stark's men?! Why… why… _why_?!" Tywin shouted and threw a knife across the room, where it hit the stone wall and fell to the floor. A man dressed in a black robe stepped forward. "I believe, my lord that Garen might have…" "I told you never to mention my disinherited son's name!" shouted Tywin. "I'm attacking that camp! You get out of my sight!" The man nodded and left. While Tywin was changing into his armor and having servants rally the men, the black-robed man was mounting his horse and riding to Garen's camp.

He burst into the command tent. "This had better be important," Garen said. "Tywin's men are attacking! They'll be here in an hour!" Garen nodded and sped to Robb's camp to tell him the news. "We'll be over there yesterday!" Robb shouted, donning his armor and rallying his men. Garen, Robb, and the men were outside the camp in less than five minutes. "Battle order!" shouted Garen. Immediately, a thousand Mercenaries stormed outside of the camp. Crossbowmen formed a line three ranks deep, and cavalry guarded the flanks. Some swordsmen and reserve cavalry were in the rear. Garen's new additions from Casterly stood there bewildered. "Do what they're doing," said Garen. The soldiers obeyed, bolstering the ranks of crossbowmen, swordsmen, and cavalry. Robb's men further contributed to this. Now, four thousand men stood in formation, awaiting Tywin's attack. Tywin's men arrived soon after, and stopped.

"What in the Hell are they doing?" said Tywin. "It looks like they're surrendering." Tywin laughed. "I've no time for prisoners. Slaughter them." The signal was given to charge. Meanwhile, Garen sat on his horse, in the rear, calm-faced. "Fire on my order!" he shouted. When Tywin's men were fifty yards away, Garen gave the order, "Fire by rank!" When the first, second, and third ranks had let off their volleys, half of Tywin's men lay dead. Garen smiled. "Cavalry, charge their flanks! Swordsmen, charge!" Garen took the left flank, and Robb took the right, each man taking half of the cavalry. When the swordsmen had gotten to the business of crossing blades with Tywin's soldiers, Garen's cavalry attacked from the rear, making the battlefield into a killing field. Tywin worked well in the battle, taking some of garen's men before Garen ordered the men to fall back so he could engage Tywin in single combat, as was honorable. "It's over, Tywin!" Garen shouted. "You are a worthy adversary, but the battle is mine." Tywin shook his head. "Bah… you may win this battle, but we'll win the war!" Tywin fell back to Casterly Rock, and Garen and his victorious army rode back to camp. "Let's rest the three thousand five hundred men and march on Casterly in three days," said Robb. "Tywin's men will be there by that time…" "Good," said Robb. "I want those men in _my_ army when I rule casterly." Robb put a finger to his chin. "We'll see what can be done."

A survivor from the battle, meanwhile, had just joined Tywin's reinforcements, now two days away from Casterly. "I was there," he said. "Garen and his men fought like… like a well-oiled machine _and_ a pack of mad dogs!" "And?" the commander of the forces said, raising an eyebrow. "We must swear our fealty to him before it is too late!" "Him?" "Garen! He's returned… he's become vengeance incarnate, he has!" "Garen… pfah! He's just a children's story meant to scare them into obedience! What, are you going to tell Garen if we don't eat all of our vegetables?" The general let out a loud laugh. "He certainly scared _me_!" The General chuckled. "Fine… if it makes you feel any better, we'll keep Garen out from under your bed." "He's two days southeast of here." "Then we march. I'll have the man break camp." The general chuckled. "Garen… hah!"

Garen, meanwhile, was in the middle of a good dream when a soldier burst into his tent. "They're waiting outside of our camp!" Garen jumped out of bed and put on his armor. "Yes, that's a very good reason to wake me! Good job, soldier!" He gathered his and Robb's men, and rode out to meet the enemy general. "You've two choices, my friends!" he shouted to the enemy army. "Swear fealty to me, or be slaughtered! Which is it?" A quarter of the five-thousand man army steped forward, dropping their weapons. Confused, another quarter followed their example, the men kneeling on the ground. "What are you doing?" the general shouted. "Get back in line! That is an order! You will kill the enemy _now_!" "That," said Garen with a smile "is a very good idea… and test of loyalty. You heard the man," he said. "Kill the enemy." Immediately, Garen's new soldiers took up their weapons and killed the men who they had once called comrades. Before long, the general had ten arrows in him. "And now," said garen, "You may pitch your tents among my camp. Whatever loot the soldiers have is yours. Take it as a reward for your service." The soldiers cheered and looted bodies, pitching their tents afterwards. "Garen," said Robb, "You manipulative bastard." "I know," said Garen with a smile. "March to Casterly in three days?" Robb asked. "Three days," said Garen. The next morning, the army was counted again, and was now six thousand strong. Garen smiled. "This," he said to himself, "will be a very interesting battle."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

Daenerys Targaryen was in Qarth, brooding in her chambers. She now ruled the city, and decided she'd rule the whole of the Dothraki race from there… once they'd been subjugated, that is. She reflected on all of this while caressing one of her three dragons. Her advisor, Jorah Mormont, was with her. "Jhaqo's Khalasar numbers ten thousand, Khaleesi. Yours is only half. Perhaps the soldiers of Qarth could aid you." Dany sighed. "Let's remain in Qarth," she said. "With luck, he won't know we're here." Jorah nodded. "Someday," she said to herself, "I will be queen of Westeros… but for now, I'll be queen of Qarth." "Speaking of queens," said Jorah, "you would do well to hear this prophecy from one of Qarth's seers. 'One most auspicious day, Lion and Dragon shall unite. Together, they shall rule the west and usher in an age of gold.' Just some food for thought, Khaleesi…" Jorah left, and Dany continued to ponder.

In Westeros, just outside of Casterly Rock, Garen Lannister and his army of six thousand waited. They'd attack at nightfall, but until then, they trained. Garen and Robb were talking of strategy in Garen's tent. "We'll march the swordsmen and cavalry into the city," said Garen, "by way of the front gate. They'll think we're Tywin's troops come to reinforce them. The crossbowmen will climb the walls and silently kill the guards thereon with the small swords they keep for close quarter fighting. You and I," said Garen, "will work together to kill Tywin should he show his face." Robb nodded. "That sounds like a reasonable strategy," he said, "but the gates close at night." "Soldiers can get in by means of a password," said Garen. "I know it… as luck would have it." Robb chuckled. "You do the talking," he said.

That night, Garen, Robb, and their swordsmen and cavalry waited outside the gate, and the crossbowmen took out the guards on the walls. When the crossbowmen were done, Garen knocked on the gate. "Passowrd?" said a voice. "Hear me roar," said Garen. "That's not the _current_ password," said the voice, "but you lot were away for a time, you didn't know that we'd changed it a week ago, so come in." The gate opened, and Garen, Robb, and the rest of the troops walked in without a fight. He had the cavalry take up position at what would be the battle's flanks, and he had the swordsmen cover the front. Some reserve cavalry waited behind the swordsmen. "Come out and fight, Tywin!" yelled Garen, "You sly, lying fox!" That brought two thousand soldiers out, and caused Tywin to awaken and change into his armor. He walked out of his chamber and to Garen. "Garen, you traitorous bastard!" he yelled. "I'll have you! Mark me, I'll have you!" "No you won't," said Garen. "Crossbows, fire… fire!" That brought five hundred of Tywin's men down.

The remainder of Tywin's men charged, meeting Garen's head on. He ordered the cavalry that was on the flanks to envelop the enemy soldiers and met Tywin outside of the now considerably smaller field of battle. Garen drew his sword and banged it against his shield, assuming a defensive position. Tywin let anger be his guide as he charged with his sword raised. Garen, seeing his opening, slammed his shield against Tywin, causing him to drop his sword and fall to the ground flat on his back. Garen smiled and said, "Which is it, father? Go to the wall and lose all contact with Jaime, Tyrion, and Cersei, or die?" "Better to die than never see your children again!" yelled Tywin. Garen smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that." He thrust his sword into Tywin's face, killing him instantly. "Well," said Garen. "That was anticlimactic." He then joined the battle, killing as many men as he could. Victory, at this point, was inevitable. When it was achieved, Garen had his crossbowmen stay on the walls and went into Tywin's former chambers. It had been a long day. "Soldiers," he called as he left. "Be this place's guards until I can find some new ones."

When Garen awoke the next morning, he donned his finery and went to the main hall. There, the smallfolk swore their fealty to him, and the captain of his mercenary band appeared before him. "Put the armor of the red cloaks on us and we'll be this place's permanent guards." Garen nodded. "Very well," he said. "Go to the armory and get fitted." After this business was done, he himself went to the blacksmith. "What'll it be, my lord?" the smith asked. "I'd like a set of armor befitting my new status," he said. "Make sure it's functional as well as elegant. Red, I think, with gold trim… put a rampant lion on the breastplate… not solid gold, that's too soft… and I'd like a helm shaped like a lion's head." The smith nodded. "Will do." Garen, meanwhile, went back to the main hall. "If you don't mind," said Robb, "I'd like to stay here. Winterfell fell recently, and I need a place to live." Garen nodded. "You're always welcome at Casterly Rock, Robb." Robb smiled. "Good." "Cersei and Jaime Lannister," said a guard, "wil be here in a month." "Get the place ready," said Garen. The guard nodded.

A month later, Garen was wearing his new armor, and Cersei and Jaime had just arrived. When they entered the main hall, they were shocked. "Garen…" said Cersei. "Welcome home." "Cersei!" said Garen jovially, standing up. He had a small knife in his hand. "Father is dead, and I rule Casterly now… oh you've so much news you must hear!" "How did you…" whispered Cersei. Garen laughed. "Oh, that's now important now. Come!" he said. "Embrace me!" Cersei did so tentatively, and Garen plunged the knife into her back. "Among this news," he said softly, "You will find that incest is not tolerated here anymore." He let go of Cersei, and she fell to the floor. Jaime just stood there, stunned. "Oh, don't worry, Jaime," he said, "I won't kill you… Kingslayer..." He smiled. "I have use for you. There's a king that needs slaying." Jaime just nodded. "When you're done with that," said Garen, "I'll be king… and you will be head of _my_ kingsguard… but should you dare betray me, I'll do a far worse thing than kill you…" "The wall," whispered Jaime, "that's right," said Garen with a chuckle. "Smart boy."

When Jaime got to King's Landing, Garen went with him. Garen waited in the throne room while Jaime talked with joffrey about how they'd next crush the Starks. "The Starks have already been crushed," said Joffery. "All I need to do is kill the false 'King of the North' and my rule will be absolute." It was when Joffrey launched into a tangent about his kingship and how no one would dare challenge his power that Jaime stabbed Joffrey in the back. Joffrey fell to the floor, dead, and Jaime took the crown. Everyone in the throne room gasped, and Garen stepped forward. "What has happened?" he said. "Jopffrey is no more," said Jaime, "but I find that being king is too great a burden for me. Won't someone else take the crown?" Garen nodded. "Give it to me," he said. "I shall take the burden off of your shoulders and place it on mine." Garen took the crown and placed it upon his own head. "The reign of tyranny and oppression is over!" he called. "Let a cleansing wave of freedom and prosperity wash over this land!"

The people cheered, and Garen had Joffrey's corpse taken away. "As my first act as king," he said, "I ask for Robb Stark's attendance. I've some business with him." A courier was dispatched. "I find that since my departure from Casterly and my crowning," he said, "Casterly Rock needs a new lord. Tyrion," he said, "will be the new lord of Casterly Rock. Jaime will remain head of the Kingsguard." Just then, a thin man stepped forward. "I am Petyr Baelish," he said. "From what I heard," said Garen, "you helped Joffrey usurp the throne from the rightful king. This cannot go unpunished." "But _you_ are the rightful king now, it seems. The people cheer your name." "For now, yes," said Garen. "Nevertheless, I can't abide men who aid tyrants. Someone else will run your brothel, and _you_… are off to the Wall." Littlefinger started to protest. "But… but…" "Be still!" said Garen, "Your king has spoken! Take him away!" "A king needs advisors," he said. "I know of the inner workings of this realm," said a rather heavyset man. "The name is Varys." Garen smiled. "Well then, advisor, "he said, "Advise me." "There is a city known as Qarth that flows with milk and honey. You'd do well to trade with them. It's on the southern coast of Essos, my king." Garen smiled. "Then I shall do just that. The Dothraki are a formidable force that may stand in my way, so I'll go there myself with an army." Varys smiled. He liked Garen's talk of freedom and prosperity, but would Garen fulfil his promises? Garen sat back in his throne, hearing petitions and settling disputes, for the rest of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

A week later, Robb Stark walked into Garen's throne room. "You called, my king?" "I did. You're the rightful lord of Winterfel, are you not?" "Yes." "Excellent. In that case, I give winterfell to you, your sons, and your grandsons until the end of time. Also, I find that I need a hand. You would be willing to fill this office, I trust?" Robb smiled and nodded. "Of course." "Then it's done." Garen took out the hand of the king's pin and tossed it to Robb, who caught it and pinned it on himself. "Find out how strong our armies are, and report back to me. I find that I have to take petitioners, or I'd do it myself." "The North remembers," said Robb. "Especially when it comes to kindnesses… you won't regret this, your Grace. Mark my words." "Oh, one last thought. I'll be sending some of my masons, carpenters, engineers, and the like to rebuild Winterfell stronger than it was before. As for guards, I'll have Tyrion send some red cloaks." Robb chuckled. "You're getting off to a good start with your rule." Garen nodded. "I'm trying… and evidently succeeding."

The next day, Garen learned that together, the soldiers loyal to him numbered fifty thousand. Stannis Baratheon and Euron Greyjoy had yet to swear their fealty, and together, since the recent wars, they numbered twenty-five thousand. "Send twenty thousand soldiers with me across the Narrow Sea," Garen told his hand when he got to the Small Council Chamber. Robb nodded and went off to do his king's bidding. That afternoon, the men were gathered, and Garen said to the people in the throne room, "I go to Essos to negotiate a trade agreement with Qarth. I shall return, hopefully, within a year. If five years pass and I still have not returned, something bad has happened. Robb Stark, my hand, shall rule in my stead while I am gone." With those words, Garen left and embarked on a ship.

A week later, the ships landed in Essos, and Garen and his men disembarked. "First order of business," said Garen, "find water. We must go east to Quarth while we do this. Admiral, have the ships head for Quarth." "Why are we doing this instead of just sailing to Qarth?" "I intend to make myself known," said Garen. He mounted his horse. "Cavalry, mount!" he called. "March order!" The soldiers arranged themselves in a column with infantry in the center and cavalry on the flanks and guarding the rear. Garen and his officers rode in front. "Column, forward… march!" With those words, the twenty-thousand man army set off into the desert. A few hours later, a scout returned from a mission to find water. "I found an oasis an hour's march east of here," he said to Garen. "But it's occupied by Dothraki… ten thousand of them, in fact." Garen put a finger to his chin. "When we get there, have the men fall into the line of battle, but do not attack. I'll try to negotiate with their leader, and if I am successful, hurrah! If not, then we may have to fight," he told a general. When they got to the oasis, Garen's order was carried out, but no weapons were lifted. A man on horseback came to see what the fuss was about, and gave orders for his men in a strange language. "Do you speak," said Garen slowly, "any of the common tongue?" "Yes," said the man. "I am Khal Varshaq. This oasis is ours; we took it from Jhaqo." Garen nodded. "I see. Perhaps you need some aid against this… Jhaqo you speak of?"

Varshaq nodded. "That would be wise… before Jhaqo manages to tear us to pieces. His Khalasar numbers twenty thousand, and we have no such force. We are only ten thousand." "We are twenty thousand. Combine forces with me and you'll outnumber Jaqo by a fourth… of course this means that we'll need water…" "If we are allied, then it is only right that we share," said Varshaq. "Excellent." "Feel free to camp among our tents." Garen nodded. "You heard the man," he called. "Make camp and rest a while until our new allies are ready to move on." "Follow us," said Varshaq," and we will show you where the water is." "Do you have any infantry?" "Two thousand," said Varshaq. "Eight thousand cavalry and two thousand infantry…" said Garen. "Let's combine our formation for better protection." After camp was set up, Garen spent the rest of the day teaching Varshaq his tactics. "A wise way to fight," said Varshaq. "I think my Khalasar could learn much from you."

Garen went into his command tent and started polishing his armor and weapon, thinking of how he'd deal with Qarth's ruler, whoever that might be. A Dothraki ran into garen's tent just as he was finishing up his polishing. "Vaes Dothrak is a day's ride east of here," he said. "We can't lift steel in the city, which is a shame, because Jaqo controls it now that Drogo is dead." "Then we surround it and starve the defenders out." "But it is sacred!" Garen stared the Dothraki down. "Never let religion get in the way of what must be done," he said. "We march on Vaes Dothrak, we do it tomorrow, and that's my final word." "But…" "You've spoken your piece," said Garen sternly. "Now obey me." "No." Garen strode towards the defiant Dothraki. "Say that again," Garen said loudly. "And this time, I want you to _fucking smile_!"

Garen took out a knife. "Smile, you son of a whore!" he shouted. He grabbed the man's jaw and forced it open, pressing the blade into the side of his mouth. "You don't say 'no' to me," he yelled. "You don't _ever_ say _fucking no_ to me!" He cut into the man's cheek. That caused the man to yell in pain. Garen cut slowly and deliberately. When he was done, he forced some cloth into the wound, proceeding to cut the other side in the same fashion. After much blood and much shouting, most of which was done by Garen, he kicked the man in the stomach, causing him to vomit. He got some more cloth to replace the pieces that had fallen out, and this time, he soaked them in alcohol and salted them, shoving them into the man's cuts. Garen pushed the man out of his tent. "Now tell the others we march tomorrow, or I'll cut out your tongue!"

Word of what had happened spread through the camp like wildfire. Varshaq walked into Garen's tent and smiled. "It would seem as though you are to be obeyed," he said with a chuckle. "That is good!" "I," said Garen, "am a man who wants things done correctly, immediately, and without question." "A Khal who expects obedience and punishes defiance is a true Khal," said Varshaq. Another Dothraki burst into the tent. "Khal Garen!" he thundered. "I challenge you!" Garen rose and smiled. "It would seem that someone would like to be mercilessly tortured," he said. "How delightful…" "You'll need an arakh," said Varshaq. "Use mine." Garen took Varshaq's weapon and said, "Gather the rest, please. I'd have them watch." Varshaq did as he was told, and Garen walked into the center of the ring with his challenger.

"Don't bother stating your name," said Garen. "It means nothing to any of us here." The other man charged, and Garen tripped him. He stood over his opponent, who leapt up and kicked Garen in the stomach. Down he went, rolling and rising again, arakh in hand. He tapped it against his thigh. "I'm waiting," he said in a singsong voice. The man charged again, and this time Garen slashed, cutting the man deeply. Before he could rise, Garen grabbed his hair and undid his trousers, swiftly grabbing hold of his testicles. Without warning, he pressed his arakh against the scrotum and made a sawing motion. Slowly but surely, the man's scrotum came off. Garen then sawed off the man's penis, stuffing it in the bloody sack. "Eat it," he said coldly, a smile of victory crossing his face. "By the Old Gods _and _the New…" whispered a soldier who had joined Garen on the journey from King's Landing. The man clasped his hands over the spot where his manhood used to be, bleeding profusely. Garen forced the man's mouth open and shoved the genitalia into it, forcing the jaw up and down in a chewing motion. The man swallowed and collapsed. Garen stood and threw his arakh at the man. The blade stuck ast in the man's gut.

"Will no one else step forward?!" shouted Garen. "Does no one else challenge my rule?!" The crowd backed away, widening the circle. "When Khal Varshaq or I give an order," he shouted so that all could hear, "it will be obeyed… without question… correctly… and immediately!" He twisted his arakh and pulled it out of the now dead man's gut. "Your Gods… your Great Stallion… cannot save you… from my wrath… should any of you disobey or fail me! So if you do any of those two things, you might as well fall on your sword, because I know… I _will_ know… every time you fucking fail! The next person who challenges me," he continued, "will be nailed to a stake and left for the birds and the beasts! Now return to your posts… and shut up!" Unsurprisingly, everyone sprang into action to carry out Garen's order. Garen returned to his command tent, whistling "The Rains of Castamere". _"This,"_ he thought, _"shall be an eventful campaign."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

The next day, Garen and his army marched to Vaes Dothrak, intent on cornering and killing Jhaqo. He rode at the head of the formation, next to Varshaq. His soldiers, before the march, had taught the dothraki how to use crossbows, and so Garen's Dothraki infantry were better off, and some of his cavalry became mounted crossbowmen. "So," said Varshaq. "What is the name of your horse?" "Bloodmane," said Garen. "That strikes fear into my heart, and I'm a friend!" chuckled the Khal. "Imagine what your enemies do when they hear that name." "Jhaqo might as well just kill himself right now," said Garen with a chuckle. Along the way, Garen's troops met an unknown army. Garen ordered his troops into the line of battle and rode forward. To his surprise, a woman rode to meet him, three dragons following close behind. Her hair and eyes identified her as Daenerys Targaryen. "What," said Garen "is your purpose here, dragon?" "To kill Khal Jhaqo; we ride for Vaes Dothrak." "It appears as though we have a common goal," said Garen. "I am Garen Lannister, Khal of Khals." "How can a Lannister be a Khal?" asked Daenerys. "Simple enough," said Garen. "He can become Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and sail to Essos to negotiate a trade agreement, joining forces with a Khal along the way." Garen told Dany of his exploits, down to the minutest detail. When he told her of how he'd tortured the man who disobeyed him, and of how he killed the one who challenged him, and recited his speech that he had given his men at the end of all of this, a look of shock appeared on Dany's face.

"Incredible…" she whispered. "You truly are the Khal of Khals." She mastered herself and said, "I rule Qarth… and am perfectly willing to trade, on one condition." "Name it," said Garen. "Abdicate your throne and make me queen of the Seven Kingdoms in your place." Garen didn't even blink. "I have a counteroffer." "Interesting…" dany said. "Ordinarily, when the king of the Seven Kingdoms marries, the queen has no power… well… almost no power. However, I am willing to turn tradition on its head." "How so?" asked Dany. "If you were to be queen, you would be _my_ queen… _but_…" garen added when Dany started to protest. "We would rule… _jointly_." Dany pondered the offer, turning it over in her head. After a while, she said, "I'll have to think on it… in the meantime, you shall have your trade agreement. Let us join forces and march on Jhaqo together." "It would be my honor," said Garen. Garen ordered his troops back into marching order. "Join them," said Daenerys. Soon, the column of troops got longer and wider, and had three dragons alongside their soldiers. It was when the black and red dragon perched on Garen's lap that Dany smiled. "It would seem as though this one's taken a shine to me," said Garen. "It would seem so," said Dany.

When the army saw the city, Garen halted. "Right, you lot!" he ordered. "Surround this city and put it to siege!" The army obeyed, and within an hour, the city was surrounded by thousands of men. A Dothraki army was in the city, but they were standing idle. It was forbidden to draw steel in the city. "I've no time for religious law," he said. "Kill them!" Garen's crossbowmen fired by rank, and all hell broke loose. "This is forbidden!" said an enemy soldier in Dothraki. He and the rest of the enemy's army ran every which way, trying to figure out what was happening. Khal Jhaqo came out of the commotion and, ignoring the ages-old law, charged Garen's lines. Miraculously, he broke through. Garen's men were so puzzled that he'd actually drawn a weapon that they'd just let him through. Jhaqo was focused on Garen and had a mad lust for battle in his eyes. Garen smiled and looked at Dany. "It looks like your dragons will get to eat today." "Drakarys," said Dany, taking the hint. Instantly, three dragons let loose their fire breath and Jhaqo was burned to a crisp. The dragons were eating his corpse when Garen shouted, "It's all ours! Get inside that city and get some stone. We're fortifying this place!" The soldiers started creating earthworks and Dany said, "There's a quarry near Qarth. I'll have stone sent here for the walls." Garen nodded and walked into the city, finding the building from which it was ruled easily. As he entered it, he found the Dosh Khaleen. "This city," he said, "is mine. All of its buildings, streets and markets are mine." The women looked at each other, unable to understand Garen. Khal Varshaq walked into the building. "Translate, please," said Garen. The khal nodded, and Garen started again. "This city, all of its buildings, and all of its streets, along with all who enter it, are mine. The city shall be razed and rebuilt." The women gasped in horror. "You shall not be harmed," he said. "I do not kill women."

The Dosh Khaleen breathed a collective sigh of relief. "Who are you?" one of them asked. "I am Garen Lannister, Khal of Khals… the Stallion who mounts the World." The women gasped again. "When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east… when the rivers run dry… and when the mountains blow in the wind like leaves… I shall die. But until then, Vaes Dothrak and the world are mine." At this point, Daenerys walked in. "What is this?" she asked. "The Stallion who mounts the World is come," said one of the Dosh Khaleen, "He shall burn this city to ash and build upon the ashes a new empire." Daenerys was trembling slightly. "Why are you trembling?" said Garen. "Do you even realize what you have done?" she whispered. "You have conquered the unconquerable." Garen smiled. "A city which is not defended by anything but religious law is not unconquerable," said Garen. "It is weak. This will change." Garen walked out of the building, leaving Dany flabbergasted. When Garen reached the center of the city, a thousand soldiers were resting from their labors, while the others were still digging. "When you have regained your strength," said Garen, "You will go to Qarth and locate the quarry. Once there, you will inform the laborers that Garen Lannister requires stone for the reconstruction of Vaes Dothrak." Daenerys was still in the building when Garen returned. "I… I need to return to Qarth and see to its affairs." "I'll send a thousand men there with you," said Garen. "I can't have you killed along the way." Dany nodded, and Garen went back out, where the thousand men were resting. "Daenerys Targaryen is riding to Qarth," he said. "You will accompany her there, ensuring that she arrives safely, and _then_ carry out my order to procure the stone. "Yes your Grace," said the soldiers.

Three weeks later, Dany was in Qarth, safe and sound, and stone was coming into Vaes Dothrak in droves. Walls and new buildings were being erected. "Those giant horse statues some distance outside of the city," said a soldier. "Shall we remove them?" "Yes," said Garen. Rebuild them from scratch. I want the hooves and teeth to be of silver, the legs, manes, tails and bodies of gold, and the eyes to be rubies. They will be placed on white granite pedestals. Vaes Dothrak will be remade into a city of gold." Garen walked away and saw that Varshaq had called the remaining Khals into vaes Dothrak. "They will be here in a year," said Varshaq. Garen realized that he'd been away for six months. He sighed with relief inwardly as he realized that he had four and a half more years to consolidate his position and make Daenerys his queen. "And send a messenger to King's Landing, for the Gods' sake!" he called as he returned to his chambers.

Daenerys, meanwhile, was in her chambers in Qarth. "The other Khals are coming to Vaes Dothrak to swear allegiance to the Khal of Khals," said Jorah. "It would appear that Garen is indeed winning the game of thrones, even in Essos." "I do not wish to be his enemy," said Daenerys. "He practically has all of Essos under his heel." "I strongly suggest that you accept his offer of joint rule of Westeros," said Jorah. "You wanted to be queen? Good. Now's your chance; take it." Daenerys sighed as Jorah left the room. "He's right," she whispers. "I've no choice. If I wish to rule the Seven Kingdoms again, I shall have to share."

Three weeks later, in King's Landing, Robb Stark received a message. "My Lord Hand," said the messenger who had just arrived. "Garen Lannister now rules the Dothraki, and is rebuilding the city of Vaes Dothrak." "Which is…?" "The Dothraki capital, my lord…" "Ah… any other news?" asked Robb. "Garen sends his regards and says that he should be back in Westeros with Daenerys Targaryen in approximately a year." "Excellent!" said Robb. "So the good king still breathes! I'll have my men prepare a celebration to welcome him home." The messenger nodded. "Anything you want me to tell him?" "Tell him that things are well in Westeros, but Stannis Baratheon and Euron Greyjoy have yet to offer their fealty. I fear a rebellion shall soon be on our hands. I'll see what I can do to check it if it happens, and will accept their fealty in his stead if they end up swearing allegiance." The messenger nodded, wrote everything that he'd heard down on some parchment, and left. Robb called some servants. "Have a welcoming party set up for good king Garen within a year," he said. "Spare no expense." The servants nodded and left. _"Garen,"_ thought Robb. _"Garen the Conqueror… Garen the Great… yes… that shall be how I greet him."_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V**

Exactly one year had passed since Garen Lannister took over Vaes Dothrak and named himself Khal of Khals. Vaes Dothrak now had walls and gates, the two great horse statues had been torn down and rebuilt to Garen's specifications, and the city's buildings were now improved. Roads were being built throughout the Dothraki Sea, and Vaes Dothrak was trading with Qarth, who was trading with Westeros. The Dothraki were flourishing. They'd even decided to settle down and build farms and towns. Garen had divided the Dothraki Sea into provinces, and each provincial ruler had sworn their fealty to the Khal of Khals. Garen was in Qarth, having made his staunch ally, Varshaq, ruler of the Dothraki, as he was about to return to Westeros. Daenerys Targaryen was speaking with Garen in her chambers. "Garen, I… I know we're on very good terms, and I've accepted your offer to be your queen and rule by your side in Westeros, but… your conquests… and the way you deal with dissent… it has me afraid." Garen smiled and said, "You don't need to be afraid of me, Dany." "But what if you had to kill me?" "Dany," said Garen softly. "I could never do that." Dany sighed. "I just… it's been… you've done so much and, well… I admire you for it, but… I can't stand the thought of you possibly turning on me and…" "Dany," said Garen, cupping her face in his hand. "It's alright." Daenerys thought for a while, then fell into his arms and kissed him. Garen kissed Daenerys back, his tongue dancing in her mouth.

When the kiss ended, Garen smiled. "You and I have been friends for a year, yes?" "Yes… we have. I mean, I was afraid at first, but…" "Then I can tell you this." "Tell me what?" Garen smiled. "I love you." Daenerys stared at Garen in wide-mouthed shock, her eyes pools of desire. "You… what?" Garen smiled. "You and I are like twins… and I can't fight it anymore." Dany smiled. "Garen… before we go to Westeros… would you stay one more night? Please… with me?" "I… I suppose… but I've never spent the night with _anyone_ before…" Dany took off her dress. "Stay with me, Garen…" she whispered, pressing her body against his. "Please." Garen smiled and held Dany close, kissing her neck. Dany laid back and Garen got on top of her. "I don't want to mess this up," he whispered. Dany's hand trailed down Garen's body until it found his manhood. "Shhhh… Garen…" she whispered, stroking it sensually. "Shhh…" Garen kissed Dany's breasts and cleavage, massaging her waist. Dany tilted her head back and moaned as Garen found her soft, wet flower. He slid two fingers inside of her and rubbed the area inside her, using his thumb to rub her clitoris. Daenerys moaned out Garen's name softly. He chuckled and kissed her deeply and passionately, entering her. He thrust slowly and gently at first, and then went progressively faster and deeper.

Dany's moans got louder with Garen's thrusts. She moved her hips with his as he kissed her soft, sensitive neck. "Garen…" she moaned out. "Don't… ever… stop!" Garen held Dany's wrists above her head with one hand, stroking her back along her spine with the other. He took one of her nipples between his teeth, rolling it around gently. Dany then climaxed, thrashing her head wildly on her pillow. She then did something that she hadn't done since she was a little girl. She screamed. Garen climaxed next, letting out an animalistic growl of pleasure. That was when Daenerys fainted. Garen held Dany's limp form to him, still inside her. He drifted off to sleep, not waking until the next morning. When Garen did wake up, Dany groaned softly and pressed herself closer to him. "Don't get up," she groaned. "Stay…" "Did you enjoy last night?" Garen asked. Dany nodded against Garen's chest. "I'm not leaving you. You're mine now…" "We should probably head back to Westeros now," said Garen. "I've left Jorah in charge of Qarth, so we should get underway."

Dany and Garen got dressed and packed, making for the docks. Garen's soldiers boarded their ships, and the Dothraki stayed behind. The voyage to King's Landing was uneventful, and when Garen returned, a band of trumpets and horns played fanfares and marches. When Garen stepped onto the docks with Daenerys, the band played "The Rains of Castamere." Dany smiled. "It's good to be back." Garen ascended the steps to city proper and turned to the crowd. "I am Garen lannister… King of the Andals and the First Men… Lord of the Seven Kingdoms... protector of the realm… Khal of Khals… and Ruler of Qarth… and _I_… _have_… _returned_!" At these words, the crowd let out a deafening cheer. When the Cheer died down, a man in the crowd shouted, "Long live Garen the Great!" The crowd echoed the shout, and Robb Stark shouted, "Long live Garen the Conqueror!" This shout was echoed as well, and the crowd cheered again.

A golden crown was then brought forth by the High Septon, accompanied by three guards. The High Septon placed the crown on Garen's head and bowed. This crown had seven points, representing the seven gods, each topped with a ruby. In the center of the seven projections were set sapphires. Four half-arches supported a large diamond, and the inlay of the crown was dark red. Surrounding the base of the crown was fur as white as fresh snow. The High Septon then presented Garen with a gold scepter three feet in length. This scepter had a diamond at one end, and a seven-pointed star at the other, the points of which were rubies. In the center of the star was a large garnet, with a gold rampant lion thereon. The star was held in place by a gold setting. Another scepter was brought out, this one for the east. It was gold as well, three feet in length, and had a ruby at one end and a silver rampant horse on the other, symbolizing the Dothraki race. The head of the scepter was spherical, and represented the world, which was supporting the horse. Together, horse and globe represented the Stallion who mounts the World. Garen was then stripped of his armor, revealing his Lannister finery. On top of the finery was put a dark red robe with white lining. This robe was complemented by a cloak of a slightly lighter shade, also with white lining. This cloak was rectangular. Garen's feet were outfitted with shoes that were the same shade as the robe.

When this was finished, the High Septon presented Garen with a sword in a silver scabbard. The sword was functional as well as decorative, and symbolized the king's justice. After this, the High Septon said, "May the gods guide thy hand… May thy royal predecessors lend you their wisdom… and may history find thee worthy… Garen lannister… first of thy name… King of the Andals and the First Men… Lord of the Seven Kingdoms… protector of the Realm… Khal of Khals… and Ruler of Qarth..." After this, the crowd shouted three times in succession, each repetition louder than the last, "Gods save the king!" After this, Garen and Dany retired to the Red Keep, accompanied by Gold Cloaks. When they got there, more people waited, and a bard sung:

"Great Gods preserve the King,

Great Gods avenge the King

Hail, King, to thee!

Lord of our glorious land

Let justice guide thy hand

To rule with benevolence

Hail, king, to thee!

Neither steed, nor the knight

Can hope to scale the height

Where our king stands

Send our foes to their graves

Let no man be a slave

Honor and praise be thine

Throughout thy reign

Be, glorious ruler, strong

Let our praise and our songs

Thy heart inspire

Let right prevail o'er wrong

Gods let his reign be long

Let our souls as we serve

Be living fire!"

Garen took the song in for a while and said, "You have worked long and hard to ensure our pleasure. We are most pleased." That was when the crowd erupted in cheers. Garen looked back at the throne and said, "This throne… I, personally (and I say I because I can't rightly speak for everyone here in this case), don't think a throne made entirely of swords befits this golden age of peace in which we live. What say you? Does the iron throne stay… or does it go?" A vote was taken, and the people were deadlocked. "My Lord hand," said Garen. "Your Grace," said Robb. "In this, our time of indecision, what do you advise us to do?" "Let the throne be removed, but preserved… as a testament to our past glories." "What say you now?" asked Garen. The people nodded and uttered sounds of assent. "It is done!" garen said. "Let the Iron Throne be removed from the Keep and preserved, and let _three_ thrones be put in its place… one for the King, one for the Queen, and one for the Hand!" "With respect," said a man. "What will Your Graces and My Lord Hand sit on?" Garen smiled and said, "Let the three largest chairs in the keep be brought here while the thrones are being constructed." This was done, and Garen and Daenerys immediately sat down. "It is dull," Garen said, "for a queen to be without royal regalia and jewels." Robb took the hint and went to find someone who could make these things. "I," said Garen, standing, "am going to retire for now. You may all do as you wish, and I shall see you at a later time." Garen retired to his room and Dany followed. "Garen," Dany said when they entered the royal bedchamber, "there's something I have to tell you." Garen removed his robes and cape, hanging them in a closet. "Yes?" Dany sat on the bed and steadied herself; she'd been trembling for a while. "Garen," she whispered, looking into his eyes and taking his hands. "We're going to have a child." Garen smiled. "Everything's been going right for quite some time," he said. "I fear the Gods may pull the rug out from under our feet soon."

What Garen did not realize was that he was correct. In Pyke, the Greyjoys and Baratheons had joined forces. Stannis and Eulon were now discussing battle plans. "Garen paid the iron price for his rule… Are you certain you want to go up against him? He could be a very dangerous foe. With one word, he could have a Dothraki horde in Pyke _at this moment_!" Eulon put a finger to his chin in thought. "True… he did buy his rule with iron, and for that he has my respect… but he _is_ a Lannister. If we leave this problem unattended, he _will_ spend the realm into ruin." "Here's my plan," said Stannis. "We must assemble a grand army and march on King's Landing, claiming farms, villages, towns and cities along the way." Eulon nodded, failing to notice the hooded man in the corner of the room. This man then left the room, smiling under his hood.

Garen was in the throne room taking petitions and settling disputes when a hooded man reached him. "I've something to report," the man said. "Stannis and Eulon intend to assemble a massive army and march upon this city. They intend to take villages, towns, and farms along the way to support their host." Garen nodded. "This calls for a radical plan." He turned to his Hand. "Dissolve the guards of the great houses who serve us and incorporate instead a regular army, both to quell this rebellion and to prevent further ones." The Hand nodded. "Well, don't just stand there like a halfwit, Stark… do it!" Robb sprang into action, running to the armory. Garen sighed. "Bloody rebellions… I've seen plenty of blood. I suppose I could stand a _little_ more." Just then, a man in a dark blue robe walked to Garen. This man wore a gold ring and gold chains around his neck. "A gift from the denizens of Qarth," he said, laying a long box at Garen's feet.

Garen opened the box and smiled. A sword was within. This sword could be wielded with one or both hands, and had a golden hilt wrapped in red leather. The pommel featured a bright ruby with a gold rampant lion on it, and was shaped like a diamond. The guards were shaped like the horns of a dragon and made out of gold-plated steel. The blade was double-edged and had pronounced serrations along either side near the guards. Garen smiled. "Valyrian steel, Your Grace," the man said. "The Gods are very good indeed!" he exclaimed. He would use this sword in battle against the rebels, but for now, all Garen could do was wait. Dany sighed in her chair. "Please survive this war, my Sun and Stars…" she whispered to herself. "Please be alright…"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

A month had gone by since Garen Lannister's return to King's Landing with his new queen, Daenerys Targaryen, but the new army wasn't ready yet, so Garen had to wait. Dany was with Garen's child, and her bulge was just starting to become noticeable. Dany had been refusing to drink alcohol since she had conceived, and would stay dry until she gave birth. Garen, meanwhile, was on his way to bed; it was the dead of night. He crawled into bed and kissed Dany's forehead. "Hello…" she said groggily. Garen smiled. "Eight more months, and the realm will have its new prince… or princess… but hopefully a prince." Dany smiled. "I love you, Garen. I really do." When the two drifted off to sleep, Garen had a dream… and it wasn't particularly pleasant.

Garen was in the small council chamber, waiting for Dany to give birth in the royal bedchamber. Suddenly, the midwife walked in. "You have a son… but Daenerys is dead." Garen leapt from his chair and pushed the midwife aside. When he got to his bedchamber, the baby was healthy and in Sansa Stark's arms. Garen's heart leapt to his throat when he saw Dany. She was indeed dead. As he was looking into her lifeless face, a voice said, "Garen! Wake up; it's morning!"

Garen awoke to find that it was Daenerys who said that, and she wasn't dead at all. "I'm going back to sleep," she said. "You kept me up all night with your thrashing and groaning." "You died in childbirth," said Garen. Dany scoffed and shook her head. "That won't happen, my sun and stars… now let me sleep!" Garen chuckled and got dressed. He walked to the small council chamber and sat in the hand's chair. "Good gods…" he said, pouring himself a glass of strongwine. Robb Stark walked into the room, and Garen sat in a different chair so his Hand could sit in the hand's chair. Robb did so. "You are _not_ going to believe the dream I had last night," said Garen. "Oh, what happened?" "Daenerys died in childbirth." Robb laughed. "The queen is hale and strong," said Robb. "I'm fairly certain she'll survive the experience." Dany walked into the room, fully dressed. A dragon was accompanying her. "The other two are in the roost you had built when you returned," she said. "This one's yours. He's big enough for you to ride." Garen smiled. "Thank you." "I'll keep one, and the other will belong to our child."

Garen and Daenerys retired to the royal bedchamber after finishing his drink. Dany lay on the bed and sighed. This pregnancy was hard on her frame. Garen took off Daenerys' shoes and started to massage her soft, beautiful feet. He felt Dany's entire body relax as she moaned softly. Garen smiled and kissed her toes as he massaged her feet. Dany wiggled her toes as Garen kissed them. "Oh, Garen…" she moaned. "That feels wonderful." Garen rubbed Dany's ankles and lower legs. When he returned to her feet, she moaned softly and sighed, falling asleep. Garen smiled and covered Dany with the blankets on the bed, and kissed her lips very softly, whispering "I love you." He then crawled under the covers and held her close.

Eulon Greyjoy and Stannis Baratheon were in the Stormlands. Together, their men numbered seventy-five thousand, and were drawn from those loyal to their cause. Every man and strong lad able to bear arms and loyal to the Stag and the Kraken was camped outside of Storm's End ready to battle Garen lannister, who they felt was compromising the sovereignty of the Seven Kingdoms. "Queen Daenerys is expecting a child. Garen will surely be there at least for the birth and to be with his queen as she recovers," said Stannis. Eulon nodded. "We may be his enemies, but if he wishes to see his wife through the pains of labor and the ensuing recuperation, we cannot deny him that. Let us hold off our attack until the queen recovers." "Agreed," said Stannis, "but when she is once again hale, we march north."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII**

Shouts of effort were issuing from the royal bedchamber, and Garen Lannister, First of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Khal of Khals, and Ruler of Qarth, was anxious. His queen was giving birth, he hoped to the Seven she was bearing a son, and he had had recurring nightmares over the past nine months of her dying in childbirth. "Damn wonder my hair isn't gray yet," he growled. "Dany's in labor, I've got two houses rebelling against me, I've no idea how the houses' retainers are going to settle their differences and become one army, and _where is my fucking strongwine_?! Ah… here it is." Garen poured himself a glass and said, "I am _going _to _fucking drown myself_!" as though he was making a royal proclamation. When he'd finished his glass, a servant walked in. "Well," he said, "after ten hours of labor and much muscle-tearing effort, I am pleased to inform Your Grace that the Queen has given birth to a son." Garen slowly turned to the servant, and as if in answer to Garen's unasked question, the servant said, "They are healthy… mother and child." Garen leapt from his seat and ran to the bedchamber, where he saw a smiling and exhausted Daenerys, but she was empty-handed.

"Where's our son?" he asked. Dany reached for a towel and wiped the sweat off of her face and replied, "They're still cleaning and dressing him, my Sun and Stars, be patient." Garen chuckled as he sat next to his queen and held her hand. "I'm relieved you and the child are healthy after ten hours," he said. "I told you your fears were unfounded, Garen." That was when the midwife entered with the baby. "Here he is, all clean." Garen took the child and examined him. "Right, then," he said. "Listen in, son…" "Baelor," said Daenerys. "His name is Baelor." "Right, listen in, Baelor; you're going to be a better strategist and soldier than your father, and you're going to learn quickly…. hopefully." Baelor gurgled and grasped Garen's finger. "If you grasp a sword the way you're grasping my finger," said Garen, "you're going to be the best damned fighter in Westeros. I like your attitude, boy." He handed Baelor to Daenerys, who rocked him gently.

"Your Grace," said a soldier who had just walked into the room, "I'm instructed to inform you that your new army is ready." Garen turned around and saw a man in dark red leather armor with gold trim. The combined arms of Houses Lannister and Targaryen were on the left sleeve, and three chevrons, indicating that this man was a sergeant, were on his right. Below the chevrons was a pair of crossed arrows, indicating that he was in the infantry. "Good gods," said Garen. "That's it… just leather? How's a crossbow bolt supposed to be deflected by _that_?" "It's not," said the soldier, "which is why this uniform is in actuality two layers of leather with scale mail sandwiched between them. That includes the boots. This helmet," he said, tossing to Garen a helmet that was the same dark red as the rest of the uniform. The helmet covered not only the top of the head, but the back of the neck. "As long as the bolts don't hit our faces, we should be in the clear." "I see," said Garen, tossing the helmet back to the soldier, who caught it between his gloved hands. "The gloves are of the same stuff as the armor," he said. Garen nodded and turned back to his queen, and the soldier left. "You seem to know what you're doing," she said. "That I do," said Garen. He walked to the highest balcony on the keep, greeted by thousands of cheering people. "His name is Baelor," said Garen to the servant who was standing next to him. "The first child of King Garen and Queen Daenerys is named _Baelor_!" called the servant. The crowd cheered louder than it had before. Garen walked back inside and into the bedchamber. "Sorry to do this, Dany," he said. "But I must gather the men and march on Storm's End. One of my spies informs me that Eulon and Stannis don't expect me to leave until you've recovered… so I must leave sooner." "I understand," said Daenerys. "Don't be gone too long, and don't die." Garen smiled and said, "This will be a short war. And when it's done, I shall return either in victory or a casket." With those words, Garen left. He went to the barracks of the Red Keep and said, "Stannis and his men must be defeated, and Storm's End captured." The general who was there stood. "I'll muster the troops. They'll be outside of the city soon."

Garen left, and the general turned to his right. "_Flowers_!" he bellowed. A sergeant marched to the general and halted. "Sir!" he shouted with a crisp salute. "This war is now beginning. You will rally the men outside of the city. "Sir!" he shouted, saluting again and marching away. Alexander Flowers did not like his surname… nor did he particulatrly care for the fact that he was a Tyrell bastard. He ran his fingers through his wavy black hair and sighed. His hair color was brought on by his father bedding a Baratheon woman. That was no easy feat, but the fact that he was a bastard still stood. "I _will_ rise above this," he said to himself. "I _will_ make a name for myself in this army, and I will smile while I do it, damnit!" He reached the stables and mounted his horse, reporting to his cavalry unit and riding just outside of the city, where he waited. "Garen will recognize me," he thought. "He'll grant me lands… a title… maybe even legitimize me."

Garen, meanwhile, was riding with Jaime to the front of his troops. "Stannis must be defeated and the rebellion crushed," he said. "There's no avoiding it." "But conquering Storm's end would take a number beyond reckoning," said Jaime. "_Thousands_…" "Tens of thousands," said Garen. "But Garen, there is no such force," said Jaime. When they reached the outside of the city, Jaime was forced to eat his words. There were a hundred thousand men out there, at least! "Some soldiers are guarding the holdings of the great houses to ensure they don't get fucked," said Garen, "but we still need all the help we can get." "A hundred thousand men?" said Jaime. "No, actually this army only numbers fifty thousand. Stannis and Eulon's combined forces number seventy-five thousand." "So they outnumber us by twenty-five thousand men," said Jaime. "Lovely." Garen stopped at the head of his troops and called out, "About… _turn_!" The troops did an about face, and Garen said, "Shoulder… _arms_!" Crossbows were hoisted onto shoulders. "Forward… _march_!" They marched in a column with infantry in the center and cavalry on the sides, making for Storm's End.

When they reached the Stormlands, they met no resistance for three weeks. Stannis and Eulon were unprepared, but Garen wouldn't besiege Storm's End just yet. "I'm not squandering my men against a superior force, especially if the enemy's fortified. No, I shall wait," he said to his generals. "Let them come to us and encamp. We will assess their numbers, and if we're superior or both forces are evenly matched, we will attack." Garen got his chance one week later. Twenty five thousand of Stannis and Eulon's men were encamped an hour's march south. Garen's spy reported that they were expecting reinforcements in three days. "We march immediately," said garen. "Take fifty men with us, do not break camp." The general carried out Garen's orders, and soon, Garen was at the head of a formation consisting of twenty-five thousand infantry and twenty-five thousand cavalry.

"Cavalry!" called Garen, "Wedge formation!" The cavalry formed up behind and to the flanks of the infantry, and Garen said, "Infanrty… form line… four ranks!" Soon, the army was in battle formation, and Garen and his kingsguard moved to the front, and the army was on the march. An hour later, Garen moved behind the rear rank of cavalry and ordered his kingsguard into wedge formation. Then, they waited. Almost immediately, the enemy moved into a battle formation fifty yards away. Garen knew that his new crossbows, which had been introduced with the regular army, had an effective range of seventy-five yards. "Crossbows will fire by rank!" called Garen. "Fire at will!" The enemy charged, and Garen's crossbows let out a volley, killing half of the army before contact was made. Garen ordered his cavalry to surround the remaining men, which they did quickly. The remainder of the enemy army stopped, and Garen rode to the inner edge of the circle. "Form rows and have the leader of your army stand in the front. I would have words with him. All twelve thousand, five hundred men complied, and their leader stood before Garen. "I offer you one chance," said Garen. "Pledge fealty to me and you will live… but you will be incorporated into my army. If you do not do this, you and your men all die." After about a minute, the man knelt before Garen, and his inferiors followed suit. "Get them to my camp," he said to the soldiers.

When the victorious army arrived at their camp, Garen ordered twelve thousand, five hundred uniforms by raven to King's Landing, and then he waited. The uniforms arrived a month later. Garen had won three small skirmishes in that time, losing a thousand of his original army. He had the new men stay in the camp. When the men were issued their uniforms, Garen waited another week before breaking camp. "And now," he said, "we advance. Form column!" The column was formed, and when they next stopped, they were three days' march from Storm's End. However, while Garen was sleeping that night, a spy infiltrated his camp. Alexander Flowers, who was guarding his tent, saw the spy and the king exit, and followed them.

Garen woke up in a cell in the dungeon of Storm's End clothed in a rough shirt, rough trousers, and slightly uncomfortable shoes. "So _you're_ the king everyone's ranting about," said a smooth voice. "Allow me to introduce myself… I am Melisandre, and you are my prisoner. I see you telling me all your secrets in the _very_ near future." Garen smiled. "Well, well, well," he said. "This is the priestess of the Lord of Light." Garen shook his head and chuckled. "Gods of my ancestors, and here all along I thought I was back in my camp. Pity." The priestess laughed softly. "Garen, you've a sharp tongue that will get you killed." "What do you want to know?" "Everything." "Well," said Garen. "You'll have to be more specific than that." "Troop numbers, you fool!" she yelled. "Positions, where you're encamped, I want to, and will, know everything!" "Perhaps after a meal," said Garen, "I'll be ready to talk. I'm rather hungry."

Alexander Flowers, meanwhile, had succeeded in killing one of the castle guards, and had stolen and donned his uniform. He went to the dungeons. "You're no one I know," said a guard. "Ah, yes, I'm new here," said Alexander. "Flowers is the name; Alexander Flowers." "Right, bastard," said the guard. "See that redhead there? That's Melisandre; do _not_ piss her off. Do as she says." Flowers nodded as the priestess came toward him. He stood at attention when she stopped in front of him. "Guard our… _king_. Make sure he doesn't go anywhere." Alexander nodded and stood in front of Garen's cell. Garen, meanwhile, walked towards his door to size up this new guard. The guard turned and looked Garen in the eye, whispering "I am at your service, Your Grace. You'll be out soon. Alexander Flowers… I'm one of yours; a sergeant. I saw the spy abduct you and followed him here, killing a guard and stealing his uniform." Garen nodded. "Get me out of here quickly, Flowers," he whispered.

Alexander turned about and saw Melisandre coming towards Garen with the food. He noticed the keys hanging from her belt and said, "Perhaps I'd be better suited for this job if I had some keys… in case you wanted me to lead him to, I don't know… a torture chamber?" "Good idea, soldier," said Melisandre. "Take them, and remember… I'm watching you." Alexander nodded and took the keys. "Attend me," she said to the other guards, leaving two in the room besides Alexander. He looked at the two soldiers and walked toward them with his sword drawn. "Why do you have that thing out?" one of them asked. "In case Garen tries anything funny." "She wants him alive," said the other guard, walking towards Alexander. Alexander smiled and attempted a thrust at the man on his left. He parried, and the other man joined in. Alexander jumped away and both men collided, landing on their rear ends. Alexander sheathed his weapon and grabbed both men by the scruffs of their necks, stealing one's sword right out of its scabbard. He put both swords to both throats. "Bow to your king," he hissed, "or die." Both men knelt. "Get me my things," said Garen. "I want out of this damned castle."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter VIII**

Three days after Garen's capture, Alexander Flowers was still thinking of how he could free his king. Garen, meanwhile, had been living on bread and water, and had still not told Melisandre anything, nor was he going to, if he had a say in it. The two guards who had sworn loyalty to Garen, along with Flowers, were alone outside of Garen's cellar. Now was the time. Alexander looked over his shoulder as he unlocked the door. Garen walked over to the chest that had been brought down to the room to which Garen's door opened, and he opened it, donning his armor and slinging his blade onto his back. "A Lannister always pays his debts," said Garen with a wink as he left the dungeon. On his way to Stannis's chambers, he met Melisandre. "What are you doing?!" she shouted. "Get back in your…" when she realized that Garen was armed, armored, awake, and angry, she gasped. Garen grabbed Melisandre by the hair and punched her in the gut, causing her to double over and kneel. He yanked her head back and smiled. "Did you honestly think that you could hold the King of Westeros?" he said coldly. "The Khal of Khals? The Stallion who mounts the World? The Ruler of Qarth, and the founder of the strongest dynasty that this world shall ever know?" He shook his head and chuckled. "You… stupid… bitch." He plunged his blade into Melisandre's chest and shouted, "To the Seven Hells with you, Melisandre!" He pushed her body back and walked to Stannis's rooms.

Stanis's guards had heard Garen's shouts and rushed to the scene. Garen smiled and put on his helmet. "Pathetic weaklings," he said, spitting on the floor. He twirled his blade and held it in both hands. "_Hear me roar, you fucking bastards_!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. He hacked down one guard after another, but there were many guards, and Garen was only one person. He growled. "Need to find a way around," he muttered, hacking down one last guard before retreating. Meanwhile, a guard ran to Stannis in his chambers. "Your Grace," he panted. "Garen has escaped!" Stannis donned his armor and said, "Good, I was getting bored." "And… and the priestess is dead. Garen killed her." Stannis narrowed his eyes. "Garen will not receive a quick death," he growled as he left his chambers. Garen and Stannis met on a battlement where the camp of Garen's army could be seen. Garen chuckled. "Ah, here he is… the fool who wouldn't be king… but wouldn't accept the fact." "If you think I, a Baratheon, would bow to a lying, cheating Lannister…" "Oh, you don't have to bow," said Garen coldly. "Not where you're going."

Garen and Stannis lunged at each other, steel meeting steel. Garen smiled. "Try again," he said good-naturedly. Stannis attacked twice more, and Garen swatted the attacks aside. "On second thought, don't bother." Garen brought his sword down hard, and it hit Stannis' pauldron. The shoulder was broken, but Stannis fought on, using his good hand to parry and attack. Twenty minutes later, Garen decided that he'd had enough. He smiled as he deftly tossed the sword and caught it by the blade. "Good night," he said as he whacked Stannis over the head. Garen grabbed Stannis and dragged him to his camp. Before Garen reached the camp, however, one of Stannis' guards made their way to the battlements, shooting Garen in the back with a crossbow. Garen grunted loudly as he felt the pain, but wouldn't be stopped. Halfway to camp, however, the pain brought Garen to his knees. "To arms! To arms!" called a voice. "Your king is wounded, but take heart, he yet lives!" When Garen was finally back in camp, having been escorted there by his soldiers, he was given some dreamwine to help him sleep as the bolt was removed. When he woke up, he saw the camp's maester. "You will live, Your Grace, but that bolt went pretty far in. I'm afraid you mustn't bend over or do strenuous activity for a month, and yes, that does include both battle and sex."

Garen chuckled. "Well… can I walk, and perhaps address the men?" "Of course you can walk and address the soldiers. Stannis, by the way, is being held in a tent by three soldiers, should you seek him." "You bet your bottom stag I seek him," Garen said, rising and walking to Stannis' tent. When he got there, he smiled. "You say you're the rightful king?" he asked. "I _am_ king, you bastard!" Stannis spat. "We'll just see about that. Get him in front of the camp and assemble the men!" When this was done, Garen grabbed Stannis' hair and caused him to kneel. "This man," he shouted, "caused this war! This man, Stannis Baratheon, claims that he is king. But I ask you… _who is the rightful_… _the true king_… _of all of Westeros_?!" The soldiers drew their swords, lifted them into the air, and raised their voices, shouting as one, "Garen! Garen! Garen the Conqueror!" "Well," said Garen, "you heard them. Get back in your tent, and we'll go back to King's Landing tomorrow. _You_… will return in chains."

The next morning, Garen awoke and put on his armor, walking to the outside of the camp. Four riders approached Garen, and their leader dismounted. "Eulon Greyjoy," Garen said. "How fitting." Eulon nodded. "You paid the iron price for your rule, and your victory over Stannis. I do not wish to be your enemy, and the Kraken cannot sustain much more of this thrashing. Therefore, I yield to you. What are your terms?" Garen smiled and said, "You will disband your retainers and send them into my army. My soldiers will guard Pyke, and it shall fly my banner, as all the other houses have agreed to do, with the exception of you and the Stag. Eulon nodded. "In order to remain on your good side, I accept these terms." "Right," said Garen. "I'll send you to Pyke with ten thousand of my men. Your entire army will report to mine." "Done." When the soldiers were in their proper places, Garen turned to Stannis. "Storm's End has fallen, and the Stormlands are mine, as is your entire army. They will be integrated into my host, and my soldiers will guard the Stormlands." "You win this time," said Stannis, "but the Stag will rise again." "Sorry, Stannis," said Garen with a smile. "I won't have that. Men! Collect Stannis' remaining men and break camp. We march to King's Landing."

Just then, Stannis' remaining army, ten thousand men in all, charged out of the keep. "Take Stannis to the camp and form battle lines!" called out Alexander Flowers, mounting. "I will ride with our reserve cavalry! Your Grace, I know it's not my place to give you orders, but if you would be pleased to take their right flank while I took their left…" "Done!" yelled Garen, mounting. "Half of the reserve cavalry, with me!" Garen rode to the right flank of the reserve cavalry, and Alexander to the left. The line infantry formed a four-rank-deep line and started firing, taking a third of Stannis's men down. Garen drew his sword and lifted it. "Reserve… charge!" Garen and Alexander attempted to flank the enemy, cutting many men down. Then they rode to the enemy's rear, where their reserve was, while the rest of the cavalry and the infantry fought in the front. Garen and Alexander met a few hundred yards behind the enemy's reserve. "Are you with me, Flowers?" Garen asked. "To the death." Garen nodded, and Alexander raised his sword, "For Garen and Westeros! _Charge_!" The enemy didn't know what had hit them as they were cut down left and right by Garen's reserve cavalry. Neanwhile, their front was being atacked by the rest of the cavalry. The infantry had vanquished the main body of Stannis' army, and later joined the cavalry. Stannis' entire army fell to a man, and the victorious king rode back to camp. "Stannis tried to escape in the chaos," said Alexander. "We must find him, then," said Garen. Stannis rode up behind Garen and dismounted.

"For the Lord of Light!" he called killing Garen's horse from under him. Garen leapt from his horse and tossed his sword, catching it by the blade. "I'm taking you alive," he said jovially. Garen and Stannis fought for a good ten minutes, and Garen smiled. "Once again," he said, "I bid you a very good night!" He hit Stannis on the head with the pommel of his weapon, and Stannis fell to the ground, unconscious. After the battle, Garen and his triumphant army, who had suffered three thousand casualties during the battle, marched to King's Landing. When they got there, Garen sat in his throne and turned to Robb Stark. "Call the nobles in," he said. When the nobles in King's Landing were assembled in the throne room, Garen stood up. "Alexander Flowers!" he called. Alexander stepped forward. "A Lannister always pays his debts. You delivered me from Stannis's hand. _You_ saved the life of the king! This cannot pass without reward. Bring forth the High Septon!" The High Septon was brought forth. "It is my will," said Garen, "that Alexander Flowers be legitimized in the eyes of the Seven." "It is well," said the High Septon. "Alexander Flowers… what to you wish your new last name to be?" Alexander thought for a minuute and then said, "Zentaren!" "In the name of the Father, the Mother, the Warrior, the Crone, the Smith, the Maiden, and the Stranger, I legitimize you and name you Alexander Zentaren. It is done."

"Since Stannis's death, Storm's End is without a lord. You have shown that you can lead. Therefore, I promote you to the rank of general, and I give you Storm's End, to be held by you, your sons, and your grandsons until the end of time." "Thank you, Your Grace." "You will need a sigil and words… my lord," said Garen with a wink. "I shall work on that immediately and present it to you when it's finished." "Very good," said Garen. "Where's the queen?" "She is in her chambers," said Robb. She has received word of your arrival and is preparing herself. Baelor is with her." "Excellent," said Garen. "That is all I wanted. You are all free to leave… with the exception of Petyr baelish." Littlefinger stepped forward. "I hear that you helped Joffery ascend the throne," he said. "I can't abide those who aid tyrants." "But I can aid you, too." "So you can stab me in the back like you did with Eddard Stark? No. Guards!" Two guards came forth. "Take Baelish to the Night's Watch. Perhaps they need an extra snake." Littlefinger went wide-eyed. "What?!" "No mercy for traitors! Which reminds me…" Garen went to the workshop near the Red Keep. "Is there a carpenter about?" "Here, your grace." "I want two interlocking beams of wood in the shape of a cross. Can you do that?" "Easily, Your Grace," said the carpenter. Also… I'd like to borrow four nails." The carpenter nodded. Garen went to the dungeon. "Ah, Stannis," he said, "I do hope you're well-rested, because tomorrow is a big day for you. You will be appearing before all of King's Landing." With those words, he went to his dungeon master. "There's going to be an execution tomorrow," he said so Stannis couldn't hear him. "Let the city know." The dungeon master nodded, and Garen went back to the throne room.

Alexander, meanwhile, was sipping on strongwine in the small council chamber when Sansa Stark walked into the room. "Oh!" she said. "My apologies, my lord. I did not mean to disturb…" "It's alright," said Alexander, smiling. "Oh and… call me Alexander. After all, my parents didn't name me 'My Lord', now did they?" Sansa smiled at that. "It's ironic," she said. "I used to be a queen." "Yes, to a man whose name I won't mention. Remind me to thank Jaime for killing him." Sansa sighed. "I think I'll do that, too." "I must admit," said Alexander. "I visited King's Landing while he reigned and the way he treated you was… absolutely bestial to say the very least. Would you like some strongwine?" Sansa shrugged, "A small one, I suppose." Alexander poured Sansa a small glass of strongwine and said, "I wasn't treated too well in my youth myself. I'm one of Lord Tyrell's bastards. I made a living as a sellsword after my father rather emphatically cast me out of his house. I was very good at what I did, and soon joined the army of House Tully. Five years later, King Garen instituted the regular army, and here I am." "How did you manage to retain your ability to be happy during your turbulent life?" asked Sansa. "The past, Sansa," said Alexander, "only affects you as much as you let it." Sansa sighed. "I never was able or allowed to express _any _emotion. I was pulled along by a harsh current, and not given any ability to swim."

Alexander chuckled. "I know what that can be like, so I'm not about to put anyone through it, lord of House Zentaren or not." Sansa shook her head and blinked back tears. _"I can't cry,"_ she thought. _"I won't let this man see me cry."_ Alexander sighed. That was his weakness… a lady crying. "Sansa," he said gently. "It's alright." Sansa shook her head and buried her head into Alexander's chest. Alexander rocked Sansa gently and stroked her hair and back, softly cooing to her comfortingly. Sansa trembled, whispering "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." "Shhhh… Sansa…" Alexander whispered. "Shhhh…" "I… I barely know you. Why do you care?" "Because," said Alexander softly, "I went through hell, too… only I didn't _have_ help. I know I'm not a bastard anymore, but… but I _was_… and no one bothered." Sansa grasped Alexander's hand. "You've a duty to the Stormlands, so go there as soon as you have your sigil and words. We'll be in touch. I must go and speak to our king." Alexander nodded, and Sansa left.

The next day, in the center of town, Garen was standing next to a wooden cross. He had a hammer in his hand. "Bring forth the prisoner!" he called. Stannis was led forth onto the platform on which Garen was standing. "Stannis Baratheon," he called. "You have been found guilty of high treason against the crown! I, Garen of the House of Lannister, First of my Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of Westeros, Khal of Khals, Ruler of Qarth, Defender of the Faith, and Protector of the Realm, sentence you to die!" The crown let out a loud cheer, and Garen ripped Stannis' clothes off, pushed him onto the cross and put his arms on the horizontal bar. He took a nail and hammered it into his right hand. He did the same thing for his left hand, his left foot, and his right foot, nailing his feet onto a small platform on the cross. "Get him up!" he called. Stannis was raised to a vertical position, and the crowd cheered loudly. "There he stays," called Garen, "until he either rots… or the animals eat him! If, in three days, he is still alive, he shall be publicly tortured, and his body fed to the direwolves of House Stark for your viewing pleasure!"

"Who," thundered Robb Stark, "is king?!" The crowd raised their voices as one. "Garen! Garen! Garen the Conqueror!" "I," said garen, "will be holding court until nightfall!" He walked to the throne room and his kingsguard, distinguished by their red, gold, and black sashes and decorations on their left breasts, had to almost push their way through the cheering throngs to see him safely there. When he got to the throne room, he went to his bedchamber and changed into his finery, strapping on the straight-bladed saber of a cavalryman in case any supporters of Stannis showed up. He went back to the throne room and sat in his throne. Daenerys was sitting in the throne next to his. "Gods of my ancestors, but you are beautiful," he said. "How can I look anything but when I'm ruling by the side of the man who practically rules the world?" Dany smiled and turned to Garen. "As much as I'd love for the Stallion who mounts the World to mount _me_, I'm afraid I'm still in pain from giving birth to our son." Baelor saw his father and gurgled happily. The first person to approach the king was Sansa Stark. "Ah," said garen. "I've heard much about you… how you were Joffery's queen, and you didn't much like it?" "That's what I was going to ask, Your Grace," Sansa said shyly. "I… I don't want to be roped into another forced marriage. I was wondering if you could give your official sanction for me to… to choose my own husband." Gasps could be heard throughout the room. "Based on your past experience," said Garen, "I think that would probably be a wise idea. Would you like it in writing?" "that would be good," said Sansa. "Robb, I want a proclamation put forth that Sansa's next husband is her choice to make and hers alone." "And," said Sansa, "I don't want to be swarmed with suitors." "That too," said Garen.

Alexander Zentaren, meanwhile, had just received his banner and was returning to Storm's End. When he got there, he was given a hero's welcome by the men who Garen had sent to guard it. "Good to see you, milord," said a guard. "The castle's barely been damaged at all." Alexander chuckled as he helped himself to a glass of strongwine in the great hall. "This," he said, "is going to be a good and hopefully long life."


End file.
